


Sacrilege

by fabula_prima



Series: Rum Running [1]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Mild Kink, Pregnancy Kink, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 16:10:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18034859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabula_prima/pseuds/fabula_prima
Summary: The first Alfie smut I’ve shared, and my first writing foray into the fandom, period. Comments are always greatly appreciated! Thank you for reading <3





	Sacrilege

Alfie Solomons fucks like he knows the world will end tomorrow. He takes his time, thorough in undressing you, but not to be leisurely. He fucks, makes love to you, like this will be his last opportunity. He doesn’t bother with fine clothes for himself, but he has taste. And he appreciates the delicate texture of a lace strap slipping from your freckled shoulder. He presses his lips there, shockingly full and soft in contrast to his wiry beard, and a shudder runs through you because this man bows for no one, but his head is dipped in reverence to you. Is it worship? He’s a good Jewish boy when duty calls, despite that crown tattoo. But he idolizes you, hums in awe of your wit, tells you as much when you put some con artist in his place with a verbal lashing, “you have me fucking hard, that sharp tongue of yours.” Sweet sacrilege.

He likes to start in public, whispering casually in that airy rumble that he’d like to see you in that peach number later tonight, the one he favors. But he refuses to touch you and he knows it has you weak. You don’t even mean to lean into him as he backs away and you only know he’s self-satisfied because the corner of his eye wrinkles just before he turns away. The only solace is hoping that he’ll ache in anticipation for the rest of the day, punishment for distracting you. But even that thought has you squirming, your cheeks aflame, your chest flushed and tight. 

He doesn’t wait when he arrives home. He’s quiet, methodical as he rests his cane against the wall. Removes his hat and shrugs out of his long wool coat. Toes off his shoes and nudges them away, runs a hand through his hair and smoothes his beard. Then when he’s finished, he looks up with hungry eyes and crooks two fingers to call you over. You want to play with the power dynamic, delay his satisfaction, but that’s for later. You’re light on your bare feet, watching his mouth because it’s too difficult meet his dark stare. His hands are already reaching out to cradle your face, and his kiss swallows you whole, pulling at a string tied to your core. You lift onto your toes, arms slung around his neck and lowers his hand to run his thumb across your nipple, hard and aching through the soft silk of that peach number he favors. The rasp of his calloused fingerprint draws a sigh from you and you drop all of your weight into him. Arch into him. Demand that he fill his hands with you, hair through his fingers, breast heavy in the palm of his hand. You dig fingertips into the meat of his back, hard and shifting as he works to undress you. And when you feel his erection press against your belly, you break all contact and step away, backwards toward the bedroom. He grunts, _grunts_ through flared nostrils and it’s so fucking primal, the rapid heave of his chest, that you have all sorts of ideas. _Bad_ ideas. About fucking and filling and his babe in your belly. _Perhaps in another life._

When you both reach the bedroom, he watches you, raises his chin as he unbuttons his waistcoat, and then his cuffs, and then his shirt. He starts to unfasten his trousers, but you stop him with a soft hand. Tentative: Alfie’s not one to take direction, after all, but his only reaction is to furrow his brow. You pull his hand, lead him to the bed, direct him to lie back.

Alfie likes to be fucked by a strong-willed woman. You crawl on top of him, sit on his clothed, hardened cock, and his eyes squeeze shut. Tonight, you’ll kiss him. His weather-rough face. His soft, insistent mouth haloed by wisps of whisky fumes. His jaw, just beneath his ear, where reluctant moans can be teased out. His chest, rock solid and pounding. His navel, tender and twitching in anticipation. And he could sit up, if he wanted. He could sit up and pin you against the mattress and fuck you like an animal. But he let’s you command, impatient as he is. When you unfasten his pants and pull his dick out, he grunts again, “get on with it, woman.” But you’re still _kissing_ , and does anything else deserve kissing as much as his remarkable cock? Thick and hard as stone, smooth against your tongue and so hot that your face starts to flush. He’s noisy. He brushes the hair out of your face harshly, trying against his control to be gentle. His breathing turns heavy and ragged and he opens his mouth to warn you that he’s close, but before he does, you stop and let him go. His glare is sharp, his hairline sweating, and he wipes his face, “well don’t fucking stop.”

You take his cock in your hand and pump him expertly, once, twice. You tell him to say ‘mercy’ if it gets to be too much and he rolls his eyes. But you slide your hand up and down continuously, flicking and twisting. And when he’s at the precipice once more, groaning your name and gripping the sheets, you let go. He punches the mattress this time and swears a little louder. You ask if he’d like to stop. If he’d like you to finish him and be done. “Keep on,” he whispers. He seems to like it, this delayed gratification, but his instruction sounds like a delicious warning. You draw him to the edge of his pleasure two more times: again with your mouth, and then grinding against him. The last round nearly breaks him, you think. Surrounding his cock with the heat of your cunt without allowing him entry has him more frantic than you’ve ever seen. You’d keep going like this until he loses coherence, but the image of his heaving chest and the sound of his voice deeper than you knew possible has you nearly broken yourself.

You lower yourself onto his cock and it knocks the breath out of you. He’s unimaginably massive, you think. Feels larger, thicker than ever before. His hands hold tight to your thighs and suddenly you’re less composed than him. His voice cracks, gravely and stunned, “so fucking wet, so fucking sweet.” You lean forward against him, mouth to ear, and whine, “do you love me, Alfie?”

And he’s grabbed you, spun you around, your head on the pillow, slipped out of you for half a second and slid back in again. All in a moment. He balances his weight on one forearm, roped in muscle and fine hairs and you wrap your hand tight around his bicep, hoping you’ll think of this moment the next time he embraces you. His other hand tucks against the small of your back and he lifts up until you’re arched, until his cock is driving so far and so _right_ into you that you almost miss what he grunts, “I love you, woman. I love you, I love you, what the fuck have you done to me?”

He comes with a scream you’ve never heard from him, edged with a whimper, and _keeps_ coming, the build-up of four denied orgasms shocking him. He curses, every muscle in his burly body tensed, his nose pressed sharp against your shoulder. You come in the midst of it, your cunt squeezing so tightly around him that it pulls his cock deeper. It’s dizzying, the sensation of being so full, so filled with a man that would burn the world for you. It’s almost too much, you think, looking over his shoulder at the firm curve of his ass. The build of him, the raspy depth of his voice, the confident intensity, the cloying smell of rum and fresh bread and cigar smoke as he collapses on you. It’s too much for everyone else, who gets cruel Alfie. Violent Alfie. Gangster Alfie. But he’s careful with you, gentle Alfie, and he let’s you have your way. He let’s you kiss the fine lines at the corner of his eye as he falls asleep, his hand firm on your ass, his lips soft at your throat.

**Author's Note:**

> The first Alfie smut I’ve shared, and my first writing foray into the fandom, period. Comments are always greatly appreciated! Thank you for reading <3


End file.
